The Soul Mate Law
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Every witch and wizard must marry whomever the door chooses for them - their supposed soul mate. However, what happens if that person isn't entirely... human? Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I making money from this. NB: No bestiality.
1. At the Start

"At the Start"

There was much tapping of feet in line, and some witches and wizards fiddled with their wands.

"It definitely won't bring people back to life, will it?" Ron asked. "I mean, what if someone's soul mate turned out to be," he gulped, "You-Know-Who?"

"I doubt that, Ron," Harry said, re-reading the pamphlet for the umpteenth time. "You've gotta know your soul mate first, and they've kind of got to, you know, have a soul."

"If we already know who our soul mate is, then why…"

"No, I mean you have to have met them, or been near them at some point," he said, frowning as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Even seen them just across the street in Diagon Alley. Didn't you read this?"

"And what about age?"

"What about it?"

"Well, what if there's a big age difference?"

"Ron, they won't allow underage people to marry," Hermione said, giving him a withering look. "That would be taking things too far, even for the Ministry."

"And a marriage law _isn't_ taking things too far?" he asked, waving his arms.

"At least you don't have to bare…"

"Whoa!" Harry interrupted. Someone ahead of them in the queue had just disappeared.

"Someone's just found their soul mate," Ron said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Hermione said.

"Oi!"

"As I was saying, you don't have to bare children," she continued, and they shuffled along a couple of places as the line moved forward. "Just hope that you've met your future companion, or no one will appear. According to the pamphlet." She made a face.

"'Future companion'? Did you hear that, Harry? She's talking about him like he's a pet!"

"'Him'?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. Ron looked confused for a moment, and then blushed furiously.

"For Hermione, not for me," he said. "A-anyway, at least we were allowed to group together, and not have to go alphabetically like everyone else."

"At least families won't be separated," Harry pointed out, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, the advantages of being a war hero – or heroine," she said. "We get to stand _together_ in line, not _apart_. Never mind that this entire thing is so damn inhuman in the first place!" she shouted. Everyone looked at her, and the whole area fell silent.

"Uh, yeah," Ron said, scratching the back of his neck and trying not to look like he knew Hermione. "So, who d'you think you'll get, Harry? Imagine if it was a Slytherin!"

"I hope it's Ginny," he said. "Or someone else we know."

"Let's just hope there's no incest," Hermione said. "The point of the law is to put a stop to inbreeding." She shuddered. "Breeding. It makes us sound like we're cats or dogs."

* * *

Finally they reached the head of the line. The boys began to argue about who should go first.

"Oh, move over," Hermione grumbled, and she pushed between them. She walked up to the spot outlined in a smoky ring. "Let's just get this over with."

"You will not be disappointed, Miss Granger," one of the Ministry employees said. "Trust me. You'll be paired with your true love."

"There's a difference between a soul mate and a true love," she said, and she sighed. "Just… do it."

"Very well then. Move to the edge of the circle and touch the wood of the door with the tip of your wand." Hermione stretched her arm out and just managed to make contact. "Thank you. Now, open the door."

"…How?"

"An Unlocking Charm," he said with a 'duh' face.

"It's that simple?" she asked, flabbergasted. He nodded. "Grr. Fine! Alohomora!"

"Move back now," the female employee said, standing on the other side of Hermione. "Right in the middle of the circle. That's right. It's opening!"

Sure enough, the door started to creak open. For all her scepticism and annoyance, Hermione found herself becoming nervous. It was taking an awfully long time.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked as the door stopped. Suddenly, it slammed shut. Hermione glanced at the workers' shocked faces. "Does… that usually happen?"

"N-no," the man said. "Oh, but don't worry! It started to open, so there's probably just some complication."

"'_Just_'?"

"I'm sure it's noth…"

WHOOSH! The door flew open and they had to squint against the fading light. It was easily broken as someone walked forward, and disappeared as he stepped over the threshold.

Hermione's jaw dropped open. He was a few inches taller than her, and had hair ginger enough to rival the Weasleys'. His handsome, dark brown eyes narrowed as he studied her, and she swallowed.

"I… I don't believe we've met," she said faintly. He walked over to her, and held out a hand. There was a definite spark as she placed her hand in his. "Um… you probably know who I am."

"I do," he murmured. Her heart beat wildly at the purr in his tone. Gods, what a voice! It was even sexier than Professor Snape's.

"Are… are you related to the Weasleys?"

He chuckled. "No, mistress. Bastet forbid."

"Bastet?" Harry asked. He as confused as well. None of them had ever seen this man before… had they?

"The feline goddess," he replied.

"Hey, Hermione! He's perfect for you," Ron said.

"He means that you'll like my Crookshanks," Hermione said, blushing under the scrutinising gaze of her soul mate. "He's a cat… and, uh, a half-kneazle."

"You are unusually flustered, mistress," he said. "And yet," he looked down at the hand holding hers, "I can understand why." He pulled her closer, out of the magical circle.

"Why do you keep calling me 'mistress'?" she asked, frowning. "I don't under…"

"_Hermione_," he said, "I _am_ Crookshanks."

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish several times. He nodded, and she raised her right hand. She cupped his cheek and tilted his head down. His eyes never moved from hers as she studied them. She glanced down as she placed her left hand on his chest, but then looked up at his face.

"It can't be…"

"It is," he said. "I am he. I was waiting for you to come home when suddenly I disappeared. Then – somehow – I became this: what you see here…"

"Shh." She stroked the plain robe the magic had clearly provided. It was a human chest she could feel beneath the fabric; a man's chest. And that was male stubble on his cheek.

But those eyes…

"Mistress?" he whispered, bending his head further. Her eyes widened.

"Oh my god," she said weakly. "It _is_ you. Crook…"

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted as she fainted. The man – Crookshanks – caught her before she could hit the floor, and cradled her body close to his chest.

"I will wait for you over here," he said. He looked concerned as he stared down at Hermione, leaning against the wall to wait.

"Er, come on," the female employee said, dragging Ron forward. "You next."

"Hermione," Crookshanks said. "Wake up, my mistress."

"Gaah! Millicent Bulstrode?"

"Oh, great! I'm going to be stuck with a _Weasley_?"

"Please move on…"

"Wake up," Crookshanks said, jogging Hermione in his arms. She moaned and shuffled. Her hands went to his shoulders as she pulled herself up, half-conscious.

"You're next, Mr. Potter."

"…Okay."

"Mistress," he said, and he rubbed his head against hers. "Mmm, mistress. Wake up. Hermione?"

"Gin? Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Harry! I can't believe it's you!"

"Charming," he said as they joined the others. "Hey, Ron. It's your sister!"

"At least you got your first choice," Ron said, scowling at Millicent out of the corner of his eye.

"Did you even _have_ a choice?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, no, but…"

"Maybe it's like the Sorting Hat. I mean, I thought about Ginny first."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" he exclaimed. "Then I could have thought of someone!"

"How come Hermione got her cat?" he said. They watched as Hermione came around, and then gasped when she looked up at Crookshanks.

"It wasn't a dream, was it?" she asked. He shook his head. "Oh. Um, you can put me down now."

"I hate it when humans mention putting someone down," he said, but he helped her stand. "Are you well?"

"I'm okay, I think." She frowned, and then looked up at her friends. "Hello! I thought you were coming on the second morning, Ginny? I mean, we didn't see you in line…" Then she realised that Ginny and Harry were holding hands, and beamed. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! Congratulations. And, uh… Ron? _Millicent_?" She shook her head in amazement. "H-hello. How are you?"

"I've been better," the former Slytherin said. They'd been out of school for a couple of years by now, but apparently old grudges still held. "Let's just get out of here."

Hermione nodded. She was surprised when Crookshanks tugged her into his side; she hadn't even realised that they were still holding hands. He looked down at her.

"Come on," he murmured. Well, now she knew why there was a purr in his voice.

* * *

The six went to the next point on their 'Soul Mate Tour'. It was a large room with several booths.

"C… Crookshanks?" she said. "I think we should go to that one first." She pointed at a place with 'Name Changing or Registration' over the top.

"Very well."

"Um…" But he didn't seem ready to relinquish her hand, so she didn't mention it. She just pulled him over to the booth.

"How can I help y… Hermione?" It was Padma Finnegan.

"Hello," she said. "How are you, Padma?"

"Seven months along," she said, and she grimaced as she shuffled in her chair. "That's why the counter's higher here; otherwise I couldn't fit. So," she continued, "what brings you here?"

"Uh, Padma, did Parvati ever tell you about my cat?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting nervously to the man beside her.

"I think so. How is he?"

"I am well, Mrs. Finnegan," he said. Padma's jaw dropped.

"…_This_ is why we're here," Hermione said. "He's my… soul mate."

"Your _cat_ is your _soul mate_?" Padma asked, staring at him.

"Yes. And he doesn't have a last name. He's just… Crookshanks."

"W-well, we'd better sort that out," she said, flustered. "Um… yes. Would you like Crookshanks to be your last name or first name?"

"Hermione may choose for me," he said. "She will take my last name when we marry. I believe that is the human custom?" The two women nodded. "Mistress?"

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "Uh, yes. Let me think…"

* * *

The month that passed was awkward. Crookshanks had to borrow clothes from Harry so that Hermione could take him shopping for things. By the end of the day they were exhausted, and decided just to leave everything in the living room while they went out for dinner in Muggle London.

"Do you wish for me to sleep on the couch?" he asked. "I used to do that sometimes…"

"Crookshanks, we have a spare bedroom," she said, and she touched his arm. He dropped the bag he was holding in that hand. "Oh. Sorry."

"Just… not used to handles," he said. "I suppose it is best that I learn to sleep in a bed."

"You used to sleep with _me _sometimes," she reminded him. "If I was upset about something you would curl up with me."

"I am no longer a half-kneazle, mistress."

"No," she said softly, gazing up at him. "You're not, and I'm so sorry about th…"

"My duty has always been to you," he said, and he stroked her hair as though she was the former cat. "Ever since you rescued me from that hell hole of a pet shop. I was just waiting for someone like you to come along. Perhaps… perhaps this explains why the room chose me as your mate."

"Maybe." She watched as Crookshanks dropped his hand and picked up the shopping bag.

* * *

By the day of the wedding it was as though he had been a human all his life. There were certain cat-like things about him – including the odd moment when he'd bat at his backside, trying to find his tail – and he was also a natural Legillimens thanks to his kneazle background. For the most part, however, he was fine, and even had a wand. After all, he was now a wizard and Hermione was teaching him magic.

Their engagement was a controversial one as soon as it had been leaked that she was marrying her former cat. She received some scathing letters about how she 'couldn't do any better' and that it was 'justice for a Mudblood to mate with another animal'. She burned the correspondence before anyone could find it, but Crookshanks had known that there was something wrong. She refused to tell him.

Fortunately there were far more controversial pairings. Draco Malfoy's soul mate was apparently Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson hadn't even found hers during the first round. In the second round it turned out to be Justin Finch-Fletchley. Then, horror of horrors, Theodore Nott's father was coupled with a girl he had seen in the street once, who was only in her sixth year at Hogwarts. To add insult to injury, she was also a Gryffindor.

Hermione and Crookshanks set the date for a month from the day they were 'united' by the door: after the first wave of articles in the _Prophet_, but before the gossip could die down completely. By the time they returned from their honeymoon there would undoubtedly be bigger news, and they could live in relative peace.

That was the theory, anyway.

**

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**

His name has already been decided by me, my friends, so you'll just have to wait until the next update to find out what it is. In the meantime, I hope you've enjoyed what's happened so far.

**I shall reiterate so that you are duly warned: there is no bestiality in this fic. I've done research so that Crookshanks will still exhibit some feline behaviour, but I wouldn't want to go that far, despite the fact that he used to be a cat/half-kneazle. So… since he's now human, it isn't bestiality, right? Right! The only smut in this fic will be in chapter two, just so you're duly warned.**

**Please review!**


	2. A Month Later

"A Month Later"

Never did Crookshanks think that this would happen to him. He wasn't supposed to be human, after all! Yet he would do anything to help his mistress… soon to be his wife.

If Sirius Black had been around he would have asked him to be best man. As it was he opted for Ronald Weasley, since Harry Potter was going to give Hermione away. It was just as well that her parents had never forgiven her for modifying their memories. How could she tell them that she was engaged to her cat?

"Calm down, mate," Ron said. "You're marrying Hermione, not Millicent Bulstrode." He made a face.

"Had she no redeeming qualities she would not have been chosen for you," Crookshanks replied. "Nor would she be so caring towards her cat. We cats… oh. Uh, _cats_ are very perceptive when it comes to judging humans."

"You were a half-kneazle, may I remind you," he said, crossing his arms. "You got an unfair advantage."

"She looks well in that outfit," he replied. "Picture her in a bridal gown."

Ron screwed his face up again and looked away from his fiancé, who was glaring at him from the front row. She did indeed look pretty in her green dress-suit. "Yeah, well…"

The march began, and everyone swivelled around to look at the bride. The breath caught in the groom's throat.

"She's…" he began, but his voice trailed off.

Hermione's long brown hair had spilled down her back and over her shoulders. Unfortunately the veil covered her face, but that would be remedied. The dress had short sleeves and flowers embroidered on the neckline. Layered white satin formed the skirt, short enough to show the matching low-heeled shoes but ending below the knees. Crookshanks raised his eyes and saw the light catch on a necklace with a heart-shaped crystal pendant, his wedding present to her.

Finally she stood in front of him. Harry returned to his seat near Millicent and gazed up at Ginny, Hermione's bridesmaid. Crookshanks swallowed as he looked down at his former mistress.

"Hello," she whispered.

"Hello," he replied, equally quiet.

"This is it."

"It is."

Neither looked away as the Ministry celebrant began the service. They held hands, Hermione's encased in lacy gloves.

"Christopher Crookshanks, do you take Hermione Jean Granger to be your magically bonded wife?"

"I do." Despite his new name, nobody actually called him 'Christopher', except for those who never knew about Hermione's cat.

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you take Christopher Crookshanks to be your magically bonded husband?"

"I do." She gulped, her lower lip trembling.

"You are both aware of the finality of this binding. You must enter into it with full knowledge and intent, prepared to be bound by your souls for the rest of your lives and beyond. Do you accept this?"

"We do," Crookshanks said. He watched Hermione, who nodded.

"We do," she said. He squeezed her hands comfortingly, and she smiled.

_I'm marrying my best friend_, she thought. _Could it really be better than this_?

It seemed like only seconds passed, not minutes, before the last line.

"You must now seal the Bond with a kiss."

Crookshanks, as cool as ever, lifted Hermione's veil. He froze when he saw her face close-up, a light dusting of powder on her cheeks and nose, a little blush, and soft pink lipstick. Her eyelashes had been darkened with mascara and he could see light pink eye-shadow behind the lashes. Realising that he probably looked like an idiot just standing there he threw the veil over the back of her head. She took a step closer to him, and he placed a hand behind her neck.

Slowly, so slowly, he lowered his lips to hers. He felt her sharp intake of breath and used his other hand to pull her body against his. Her hands went to his shoulders as she leaned into the kiss. Not used to such things, however, he pulled back. She opened her eyes – when had they closed? – and then blushed. Holding hands, they turned to look at the assembly. There was uncertain but polite applause.

"Thank the gods," Hermione whispered. The celebrant moved next to them.

"I present you with Mr. and Mrs. Crookshanks!" he shouted.

That led to far more enthusiastic clapping.

* * *

"Good thing we learned how to dance," Hermione said, methodically unpacking her suitcase. They were staying in a motel in Hampshire for a few nights, and then going further north.

"Yes."

"I would have hated to fall in front of everyone."

"Quite."

"Especially with so many reporters there."

"I agree."

"At least Ron and Millicent looked happy."

"They d…"

"Crookshanks, what are we doing?" she exclaimed, dropping the blouse she had been holding in shaky hands. "There's this huge elephant in the room…"

"Where?" he asked, frowning as he looked around.

"It's an _expression_," she said, and she ran her hands through her hair. "What did we do to deserve this? I mean, you were happy as a… as a non-human, and I didn't want to get married so young, and especially not because of a law!"

"Hermione…"

"And we have to have children, and I've never done this before, and I'm so scared…" She was shivering and crying, and Crookshanks pulled her into his arms.

"Hermione," he repeated. "Hermione, you're my mistress and my wife."

"Not many women can say that," she said, half-smiling.

"That's more like it," he said, wiping away her tears as she sniffed. "I will finish unpacking. You go and wash… or shower… Whatever it is you feel you must do. Then when you come out we will… go from there. Does that sound agreeable?"

She sniffled. "Best advice I've heard in weeks."

"Good. Go on." He steered her into the en suite and then used the few spells he had learned from Hermione to put away all their things.

Once he had finished, he pulled back the covers on the bed and walked to the window. How would Hermione react in a situation like this? She had never been a hormonal teenager, far too concerned about her studies, unlike her dorm-mates.

"Ehem."

Crookshanks resisted the urge to turn around. "Did you wish to climb into bed first?" he asked politely.

"Um, yes. Okay." There was a rustle. "Y-you can turn around now."

He coughed and then moved. His usually passive expression faltered once again as he gazed at his wife. Someone had given her a negligee – she had told him on the way here – but clearly she had decided to forego that for their first time. The covers were pulled up over her chest; nevertheless, he could tell that she wasn't wearing anything. She had also removed the makeup, most likely with magic.

"W…" He cleared his throat again. "Would you like to close your eyes while I…?"

She nodded frantically and screwed her eyes shut. For extra measure she rolled onto her side away from him. He sighed and began to undress.

Less than a minute later Hermione rocked slightly when the bed dipped. She took a deep breath and then rolled to face him. She squeaked when she saw that he hadn't yet pulled the blankets over his body, and blushed furiously. He slid closer and took hold of the material. She stared up at his face as he gradually revealed her body.

"This is all very foreign to me," he murmured. "You may have to help me. Cats only mate in one way."

"Have you ever…"

"Yes, but years before I met you." He stroked her cheek and caught a solitary tear. "It is instinctual for u… _them_. Let me know if I do something wrong."

"Crookshanks… uh, Christopher?"

"Whichever makes you feel more relaxed."

"Crookshanks," she said, and she half-smiled, "you know better than anyone that I have no experience. At least my mother told me the facts of life before I turned sixteen. Do you remember? You were there."

"I could never tell who was more uncomfortable with that conversation," he said, and they both laughed softly.

Then he surprised her with a kiss.

Hermione moaned softly as she parted her lips. At least she had experience _here_, even if she was a virgin in everything else. She cupped his face in her hands and led him. Soon it was no longer a matter of two mouths crushing each other, nor two tongues just touching; it was all-consuming, devouring more oxygen than they could do without. But neither could bring themselves to pull away. This was the single most important moment in their lives so far, and they never wanted it to end.

It took Hermione almost passing out for them to separate.

"Oh gods," she hissed, and she touched her sore lips. "_Merlin_, Crookshanks. I've never… that was more intense than I've _ever_… that was… Wow." She sank back against the pillows, now completely forgetting her state of undress. Crookshanks never looked away from his flushed wife, both of them panting. As they got their breathing under control he touched her bare stomach. She jumped.

"You're so soft," he said, stroking the skin. Having no experience with the human female anatomy he had no particular destination in mind as he ran his hands up and down, marvelling over the smooth and silken texture. Then one finger brushed over a nipple and she gasped loudly. Crookshanks drew back.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, frowning.

"N-no! Gods, no. Q-quite the opposite."

"Is that so?" he said. She missed the wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Yes. Could you… try that again?"

The instinct to obey his mistress was still there, but he went one further: he touched both breasts. Hermione gasped again, and then arched into his hands. A gentle squeeze made her hips buck.

"How interesting," he said, noticing that her blush was spreading. "I suppose that these," he stroked her nipples, "are where our young will suckle."

"Mmm." The way he said 'suckle' was making her head spin, not to mention his equally-dizzying touch. "That's right." Her excitement grew when he began to play with them. She bucked again when he closed his mouth over her right tip. He chuckled and purred as he sucked, and she cried out.

"You wish me to stop?" he asked.

"Crooks," she said, "please take me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm ready."

He frowned at her evasive answer but moved into place between her legs. This went against his few remaining feline instincts urging him to take his mate from behind; but Ron and Harry had assured him that this was the done thing (although he suspected that neither boy had much experience, if any). He pushed her legs further apart and moved closer. She held still as he placed one hand by her side and used his other to line himself up, hard from the brief but intense foreplay.

"I believe your mother said that this might hurt," he said. "For that I am sorry. I would never wish to hurt you, Hermione, unless it was for your protection."

She stroked his hair. "I know. I trust you."

He took a deep breath and pushed forward. Hermione grabbed his upper arms as she winced, and he stopped.

"Did you bring a Pain Potion?"

"No," she said. "Didn't even think of it. Crookshanks, just go. As soon as the initial pain is over, I'll be okay." _I hope_, she thought.

"Very well." Without giving her time to think about it, he pushed on through. She hissed at the pinch she felt down below, but it wasn't too bad. Crookshanks groaned as he sank in all the way, settling there with his pelvis pressed tightly against hers. Her eyes widened and she immediately moved her hands to his back.

"Move," she begged. He stayed put. "Crooks? Out, and then in."

"I know. Just give me a moment," he said, eyes shut tight. Hermione used that time to examine the sensations.

She had never had anything inside her before, not there. It was actually quite… pleasant. In fact more than pleasant. Thanks to his earlier caresses she was already wet, even though he'd only touched her breasts with his hands and mouth. One of the few things that remained of his former body was the harshness of his tongue. It was covered with sharp spikes just like a cat, and this had created extraordinary feelings when brushed against her skin, even her tongue. Now she felt ultra-sensitive. The pain was almost entirely gone. He was even nudging something at the end of her passage that made her body shiver.

He pulled almost all the way out of her, and then plunged back in to the hilt, taking her by surprise. She shrieked and clutched at his body, pressing him flush against her. He wrapped his arms around her as he continued to thrust.

"Oh, Crookshanks!" she said, voice husky from all the gasps she kept emitting. "Gods, I n-never anticipated th-this." He entered at a different angle, rubbing against her clitoris, and she knew that she was getting close. "I-it feels… Ah!" She grimaced at the pain in her shoulder. He had bitten down on her skin – hard – and was holding on. He growled deeply; the vibrations went right through her entire body, and she bucked once more as she came three thrusts later. She mewled, winding her legs around his waist as he pounded in. He followed not long after, his jaw still attached to her, and she shuddered as she felt his release pour into her womb. If she thought she was full before, it was nothing compared to now.

Neither moved for ages, preferring to hold onto each other as they thought about what they had just done. Once he rolled off her body, however, he winced in shame at the purple and red mark on her skin.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" she asked, still dazed and tingling from her first orgasm.

"For biting you."

"Oh. Why _did_ you bite me?"

"It's…" He looked almost sheepish. "It is something that tomcats do when they are mating. Only, of course, they… mate from the back."

"Oh." She chewed on her bottom lip, gazing at him thoughtfully. "Maybe we can do that… soon. Not right now."

"Hermione, we don't have to…"

"I _want_ to. I want to make you happy. You're my… husband now."

He stroked her sweaty hair away from her face. "We will discuss this later. You are tired, and must rest."

"I…" She yawned. "Sorry. I have to fall pregnant."

"With my litter." He shook his head fiercely. "I apologise, too. I meant my kit… _children_." He sighed. "I will get it right one of these days."

"I know you will." Then she yawned again, and curled up. "I really am tired…"

"Go to sleep. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Crookshanks."

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End of chapter two! As I said in the author note of chapter one, this will be the only lemon in the fic, unless otherwise requested. In which case hurry, make a compelling case, and it'll end up in chapter three… the next post.

**So! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, my dear readers.**


	3. After the Honeymoon

"After the Honeymoon"

Still a bit sore around the neck, especially the back, Hermione fell onto her bed. Their bed. In _their_ apartment.

"Ready so soon?" Crookshanks asked, eyeing his wife as he placed the luggage on the floor. He enlarged the bags to their true size.

"For what?" she said, glancing over at him. He smirked, eyes glittering.

"Well…" He shrugged off his light robes and began to approach her. "While I am certain, my dear, that you are now carrying, I have no objection to…"

"Oh!" She sat up quickly. "N-no. I didn't mean… I wasn't expecting to, uh…" His shoulders dropped and she back-tracked. "But I don't have any objections, either."

Crookshanks grinned, and then pounced on his wife. Hermione giggled as he began to tickle her. Her laughter was cut off when he pressed his lips to hers.

Kissing was something that Crookshanks found he enjoyed very much. Human lips were able to do so much more than cat lips. Hermione's tongue was so soft and smooth and her teeth were nice and blunt. He knew that his own teeth were still comparatively sharp, and his tongue was rougher than a human tongue; but, judging by Hermione's reactions whenever he was licking or biting her skin, she had no problems with this.

He purred as he pulled back and nuzzled her cheek.

"Being human is turning out to be quite a good thing," he said. She moaned and pressed up against his body. He grinned as he bit her earlobe and his hands went to the bottom of her summery dress. The material scrunched up easily in his grasp as he pushed it up her body. "And yet clothing is most _sincerely_ overrated."

"Uh-huh," she agreed weakly.

"Purr for me, Hermione."

She raised her head to look at him. "What?"

He smirked at her, his face disappearing from view as he pulled the dress over her head. Next to go was her bra and then her knickers; still he remained silent. It wasn't until he had flipped her onto her stomach that he spoke.

"Purr for me," he repeated. He pushed his fingers into her while he gently ran his nails down her spine. It continued to amaze him just how greatly this affected her; her back arched and there was a gush of warmth between her legs, trickling down his hand. He kept pumping, coaxing little cries out of her.

"Oh, Crookshanks!" she gasped, thrusting back. His thumb was circling her clit, the nail occasionally pressing into the delicate skin, while his other hand scratched her back, sending delightful shivers through her body. She heard a whispered spell, and his fingers were soon replaced by something much better.

"Not until I get a purr," he said when she tried to impale herself on him. "You can do it. Just vibrate your throat muscles. Please, mistress." He pressed his nose into the back of her neck, determined to mark her yet again. "Do it for me."

"Um… okay," she said. Her mind was fuzzy, but she desperately wanted him inside her. Making sure that her throat was moist enough she purred. No sooner had she started that he thrust in. She yelped.

"That's it," he said, rocking against her backside. "What a good little pussy you are."

Hermione buried her face in the pillow, mewling between heavy breaths. Crookshanks pushed in again, loving this position. It was just natural for him, and it gave him a feeling of power over his mate… that is, his wife. And she enjoyed it.

"Crooks," she said, and she purred again. This time she didn't have to put any effort into it. "Keep going." He obliged, placing a light kiss between her shoulder blades.

Just as both were nearing completion she pushed her hair away from her neck, knowing how much it pleased her husband to bite her. In truth, she felt a little thrill each time, too, and this morning – despite the bruises and teeth marks – she wanted to be marked yet again. Sure enough, seconds before he exploded Crookshanks clamped his jaw down on the back of her neck, his grip tightening as Hermione clenched around him.

As they lay panting she snuggled into his arms, hooking a leg over his. This was actually their favourite part; tired bodies pressed against each other, lungs grasping for more air, warm in the embrace. They didn't love each other; not like that. But, for the time being, they were content.

* * *

Harry and Ginny were working on their wedding plans when Hermione and Crookshanks visited.

"Hi!" Ginny exclaimed, jumping up. She and Hermione embraced, nearly in tears. "Oh, how was it? Did you have fun? Did you take lots of pictures? Thanks for the postcard!"

"Hello, dear," Molly said, carrying in a platter of cheese and biscuits. She kissed Hermione's forehead. "Ginevra, settle down. How are you, Hermione?"

"Fine, thanks," she said. Crookshanks and Harry were shaking hands and talking quietly. "Yes, we took some photos. And it was… good." She turned bright red, thinking about that very morning's spontaneous activity. "Very good."

"Arthur and I enjoyed our honeymoon, too," Molly said. Ginny turned green.

"Thanks, Mum," she muttered. "Hello, Crookshanks. How are you?"

Hermione and Harry hugged each other tightly while the others talked.

"You're okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she said, smiling at him. "I really am, Harry. Uh, are Ron and Millicent going to be joining us?"

"Yep," he said as they sat down on the couch. Ginny resumed her seat beside her fiancé while Molly and Crookshanks sat in the armchairs opposite. Harry had bought and fixed up the old Potter house in Godric's Hollow, and Ginny would be moving in with him _after_ the wedding. (The Weasleys had been very clear about that.) "I don't know when they're going to tie the knot, though."

"I don't know how _they_ ended up being soul-mates," Ginny remarked. "Maybe there was something wrong with the door?"

"Seemed to work well," Crookshanks said, arching an eyebrow and then looking at Harry pointedly. Ginny blushed.

"You know what I mean," she said. "Ron hated the thought of marrying a Slytherin."

"He even said that while we were in line," Harry said. "Remember, Hermione?"

"Mmm," she agreed, her Thinking Face on. "And you mentioned the Sorting Hat. Perhaps his conscious thought…" Her eyes widened. "No. No; the Ministry wouldn't make a mistake like that."

"I wouldn't put it past the Ministry to make a mistake," he replied. "What're you thinking, `Mione?"

"Um… nothing," she said, sitting back. She could see that no one bought it. "Look, I need to think about it for a bit."

"I'm sure the Ministry knows what it's doing," Molly said, although even she seemed unconvinced.

"So, are you pregnant yet?" Ginny asked. Before Hermione could answer the floo was activated. Ron stepped through, soon followed by Millicent.

"Hi, Hermione," he said. He sounded far from enthused. "Good honeymoon?"

"Of course," she said, and she hurried over to give him a hug. "Have you been busy planning?" She looked at Millicent as she said this, though she addressed both of them.

"Uh, no, not really," she replied, shuffling as she glanced around the room. "We're kind of holding out for the Ministry changing its mind. With Lucius Malfoy's son having to marry another male… well, he's exercising as much influence as he can to stop that from happening."

"And he hates the thought of any Slytherin marrying a Weasley," Ron said, glaring at her.

"Not now," she said through clenched teeth. Hermione exchanged a look of worry with Crookshanks. He shrugged.

"At least there's no time limit," she said. "You don't have to get married for ages. We only married early to minimise the bad press – time-wise, anyway."

"Hermione," Crookshanks murmured. He coaxed her over to his armchair and then pulled her into his lap.

"What is it, Crooks?"

"Nothing," he said. "I'm just making sure that there'll be enough sitting room for everyone."

"Oh."

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, tilting his head, "you and Millicent could always get married when we do."

"A double-wedding?" Ginny asked.

"Well, it cuts down on planning time _and_ expense," he said. "Then they can also say that they have a date. And, since we're not getting married until mid-November, it'll give them lots of time to… well…"

"Get to know each other?" Molly suggested.

"Yes," Harry said, nodding, "or find a way out of it."

Meanwhile Crookshanks was studying one of his bite marks on the back of Hermione's neck. He had surreptitiously parted her locks so that he could see it. Sometimes he broke the skin, but again Hermione didn't seem to mind. He was able to fix her up afterwards, and they Glamoured the ones which would be visible otherwise.

"What are you doing?" Hermione whispered to him. He smiled against her skin.

"Do you wish for me to stop?"

"I… I don't mind. Whatever makes you happy." He could see the blush spreading into her hairline.

"Good."

"Hermione, you didn't answer my question before," Ginny said. They all stopped talking to listen. "Are you pregnant?"

"Ginny," Molly admonished.

"Well, that's the point of the law, isn't it?"

"I'm sure they will tell us when they're ready," she said. "Arthur will be home for lunch soon. Are you coming to the Burrow?"

"Perhaps we should go to the hospital," Crookshanks said. "You could find out there."

"There's plenty of time for lunch first," Molly insisted, standing up.

* * *

They ended up making an appointment by owl. In the days before that Hermione commenced her work at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry and Ron were beginning their second year of Auror training, so she got to see them on a semi-regular basis. Hermione hoped that although she was starting as a clerk she would quickly rise through the department. She wanted to make some real changes to magical laws, especially regarding house elves and other non-human beings.

She briefly wondered whether there were any changes she could make regarding the rights of familiars, but dismissed it for the time being. She couldn't think of any current laws about them off the top of her head, so why start thinking about changes when there might be nothing to change?

* * *

"You will have to take time off work, I believe?" Crookshanks asked. "When the kit… child is born?"

"I will," Hermione said, staring straight ahead. They were in the waiting room of a clinic at St. Mungo's that was especially for pregnancies. It had been upgraded in anticipation of the marriage law.

"For how long?"

"I don't know. I've never done this before."

"I will have to find work," he said. "Not only to support us but to give me something to do."

"What are you qualified for?"

He stared at his hands, not for the first time wishing that they were paws. If only he was still a cat. That would solve many problems.

But then… who would Hermione be married to? He didn't want her to be married to anyone else, unless it was someone he knew and approved of.

Well, that discounted almost every human he knew, and they were all now either engaged or wed.

"Perhaps a pet shop," he said. "But not the horrors of that place where you found me, despite the happy memory of meeting you." He smiled down at her, and she gave him a heart-clenching smile in return. The magic was broken when the receptionist called their name.

"Mr. and Mrs. Crookshanks?" she asked. They looked up and nodded. "Healer Dukas will see you now."

"Thank you," Hermione said. Although she didn't need it, she accepted the hand that Crookshanks held out to help her up. They paused for a moment, realising just how close they were, before going into Examination Room 2, which had the healer's name written above.

"Please take a seat," Healer Dukas said, pointing to two uncomfortable-looking chairs. They sat down. "When did you get married?"

"Almost four weeks back," Hermione said. "We returned from our honeymoon a fortnight ago."

"And you believe that you're pregnant?" Finally the woman looked up, and her eyes widened. "Oh! You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"

"No. I'm Hermione Crookshanks."

"Yes, but you _were_ Hermione Granger, weren't you?"

"I was."

"And you married your familiar, am I correct?"

"Yes," Crookshanks said, squeezing Hermione's hand.

"A cat?"

"I was," he said, his voice tight as he frowned at her. "But I am human now."

"So I see." She shuffled some papers. "Well, if you could just lie down over here for me, Mrs. Crookshanks, and I'll cast some diagnostic spells."

Hermione nodded and lay down on the examination table. She relaxed as much as she could but only felt calm when she laid eyes on her husband. He gave her an encouraging nod as Healer Dukas waved her wand, murmuring some spells. Finally three sparks flew into the air above Hermione's stomach, twining around each other. They were a minty green colour, reminding Hermione of the flavour of toothpaste. This, naturally, made her think of her parents.

She felt like crying.

"I see," the Healer said. "You may go back to your seat, Mrs. Crookshanks."

"Um, all right," Hermione said. She slipped off the table and returned to her husband's side.

"You are indeed pregnant."

"…Good," she said.

"With triplets."

"_What_?" they asked.

"Mrs. Crookshanks will be giving birth to triplets," Healer Dukas said. "This is no doubt because the father used to be a cat, and they are, of course, born in litters."

"Oh," Hermione moaned, covering her face with her hands. "Oh gods."

"Hermione, I am so sorry," Crookshanks said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's not your fault. It's the bloody Ministry's fault."

"Nevertheless…"

"No. There's no 'nevertheless'." She sighed and looked at Healer Dukas. "When should the next appointment be?"

* * *

Lying in bed that night, curled up together, Crookshanks and Hermione thought about their situation.

"Three babies," she said.

"I hope they all turn out to be human."

"Crooks!" She smacked him on the hand. "How much do you know about cat pregnancy?"

"Nothing. I never planned to raise kittens. I did expect to help you with any children you had if I was able," he confessed, and he kissed her shoulder. "But then I also expected their father to be… someone else. Not me."

"I'm sure you'll make a good father."

"Your confidence astounds me." He rolled her onto her back and studied her face. "I hope that they look like you."

His wife sighed. "I miss my mum."

"I suppose this is one of those times when a woman needs her mother."

"It is." Hermione snuggled further into his embrace. He tightened his arms protectively.

"And I cannot help you."

"We could buy a book on cats," she said. "Just in case."

"That would ruin my reputation," he said. But when she looked at him she saw that he was smirking.

"I'm pregnant by a cat, and you're worried about _your_ reputation." She arched an eyebrow. "How nice."

Crookshanks kissed the corner of her mouth and her eyelids fluttered.

"I will always look after you, mistress," he said. "It is my duty not only as your familiar but as your husband. And with triplets the Ministry cannot say that we are not fulfilling our part of the law."

"Thank you," she said. She shifted around and fell asleep lying across his chest.

**

* * *

**

By the way, my dear readers, I forgot to clarify the setting. This is clearly a year after Voldemort's defeat, since Ginny has graduated and Hermione has done her NEWTs. Also, Ron and Harry are partway through their training. Hermione's parents are still overseas, as stated in the previous chapter. I just wanted to clear up any confusion for those people who may not have connected the obscure dots to get the full picture.

**So… the story is canon but for the epilogue (and any relationship between Hermione and Ron).**

**I named the (female) Healer after the (male) composer Paul Dukas. He wrote "The Sorcerer's Apprentice", the piece of music which was used for the Disney film "Fantasia".**


	4. A Double Wedding

"A Double Wedding"

"You look lovely," Crookshanks said, stroking Hermione's hair away from her neck. "Perfect. I am glad that I married you. No one else can claim you now." He nuzzled the soft, peach-scented skin. "You are mine."

Hermione chewed the inside of her cheeks, trying not to let herself be affected either by his words or his actions. But his lips were getting dangerously close to her ear…

"Have you got your tie on properly?" she blurted out. There was a pause, and then he moved back.

"I think so," he said. Her heart sank at the lost opportunity, but they had a wedding to attend and she didn't want to get there late. "Does it look right?"

"Almost," she said. With a gentle tug she pulled the knot straight and smiled up at her husband. It was almost like one of those television or movie moments, where the woman straightens the tie of the man she loves.

If only it could be true here.

"I will just get the presents," Crookshanks said softly, and Hermione watched as he walked over to their bed. They had bought both couples a Self-Filling-In Calendar. As every important event occurred it would automatically be marked on the calendar. And, since it just changed the positions of the days each year they would never need to buy another one. Hermione, knowing how disorganised her 'boys' could be, decided that these gifts would be perfect, especially with the number of children which had to be born.

Children. That was why she, at only three months pregnant, looked as though she was five or six months along. Healer Dukas had assured her that this was perfectly normal with triplets, despite the 'unusual circumstances'.

"I feel sorry for them," she said, trying to distract herself from this turn of thoughts. By now she and Crookshanks were at the fireplace in their living room.

"For whom?" he asked.

"Both brides and grooms," she said. "Harry and Ginny should be having a lovely wedding all to themselves, without Ron and Millicent there to sour things. If they were in love it would be all right, but they're… they're just not."

"Come," he said. "You first, my dear."

As soon as Hermione had disappeared in a whirl of flames he adjusted the presents under his arm, gave her enough time to move away at the other end, and followed her to Bulstrode Estate. She was a bridesmaid, so they were meeting Ginny and Millicent at the latter's home, where there was enough room for all the guests of each couple for both the ceremony and reception. Ron and Harry had put up a bit of a fuss at first, but Ginny had surprisingly been on Millicent's side.

It was only a few days after their first appointment with Healer Dukas that an announcement came out in the _Prophet_. A timeline had now been placed on the wedding dates, and anyone who hadn't yet booked had to hurry up. In the end the date set was Halloween.

As Hermione had said, "Poor Harry just isn't winning, is he? If his bride was anyone else I don't think he'd be able to cope…"

Crookshanks had privately agreed. Potter's second wedding anniversary would be the twentieth anniversary of his parents' death.

"Ah, Crookshanks," Arthur Weasley said, walking forward. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. No doubt she was already with the brides. "Presents are over here for the time being. Do you want a drink?"

"Thank you, Arthur. Any milk?"

He cringed when the redhead chuckled. "Of course."

"Sorry. It is a habit I am trying to break. I should have water. Yes. Is there any Gillywater?"

"There is. Right this way…"

* * *

"This. Is. Stupid," Millicent declared, glaring at her reflection. There were two full-length mirrors, one for each bride. Ginny was half-smiling at the picture she made in her gown, but she frowned at the other woman's comment.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"This!" She waved her hands up and down.

"I don't see anything wrong," Hermione said. She tugged at the skirt of the elaborate dress to make it flare out a bit more. "It looks just fine."

Millicent snorted. "The outfit's okay," she said. "It's the _bride_ that looks…" She closed her eyes, turning her head away. "Well, let's be honest. I'm the last person anyone would think of marrying."

"No," Hermione said. "That would be me. Especially at the moment." She looked down mournfully at her baby bump. "Most of the people I know would still remember my bushy hair and buck teeth. Add my Muggle heritage…" She shrugged. "And you're a hell of a lot more bearable than Pug-Face Parkinson."

"Than _who_?" Millicent asked, wide-eyed. "You mean Pansy? Oh my gods." She started to laugh. "That's hilarious!"

Ginny grinned at Hermione. 'Thanks,' she mouthed. Hermione nodded back.

"Harry and Ron will drool over both of you," she said. "You're both radiant, you have killer white dresses, it's a lovely day, and – from what I've seen out the window – the yard looks wonderful. You've got your families with you, you're about to marry two of the most eligible bachelors in the wizarding world, _both_ war heroes and both Ministry workers. They're kind and brave, not to mention good-looking. They're both fit from playing Quidditch. If they weren't like brothers to me I'd probably be jealous."

"Except you're already married," Millicent pointed out.

"And thanks for the advertisement," Ginny added playfully.

Hermione ignored the redhead. "I worried a bit about the marriage, but at least you've known your fiancé's longer than I knew Crookshanks. I couldn't even have a conversation with him until he became human, not unless I became a cat Animagus or something. And, thanks to the fact that he was a cat, I'm pregnant with _triplets_. I had abuse hurled at me when the news came out that I was marrying my former cat…"

"Wait, what abuse?" Ginny asked. She and Millicent were now frowning. Hermione sighed.

"Just some letters," she said, waving her hand. "After the article came out I got a lot of hate mail, like the time in our fourth year when Rita Skeeter wrote about me a-and Harry and Viktor. At least it was only insults this time."

"_Only_?"

"You know…" She trailed off, but they didn't look satisfied with her answer. "Saying that I didn't deserve any better because I'm a m-mudblood… that sort of thing."

"Bloody hell," Millicent whispered. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Why? I didn't get anything from you, though some of the letters were from members of your family. And they weren't _all_ about my blood. Some were referring to the old articles about me 'breaking' Harry's heart." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Listen. Forget about this. It's your wedding day."

"Hermione, why didn't you tell us?" Ginny asked, grabbing her hand. "Did you tell Crookshanks?"

"No, but he knew that something was wrong. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. He's been so good to me." She walked over to one of the mirrors and looked at herself. "The point that I'm trying to make is that you're both lucky. Your situations could be worse. Like…"

"Like yours?" Millicent said. Hermione didn't reply. "Yeah. We should think like that."

"I don't know who I feel more sorry for," Ginny said, her lips twitching. "Draco Malfoy or Gregory Goyle."

The young women looked at each other and shared a quiet giggle.

* * *

Crookshanks knew that he would regret listening to his wife's conversation. He was coming to check on them when he heard Hermione talking about her friends, no doubt comforting the brides. That was just like her.

Then he heard his name and listened. The guilt of impregnating her with triplet children came back in a rush, but was quickly pushed aside by rage when Hermione talked about the scathing letters. Had he known just how bad things had been he would have done something about it. He had sworn to protect her, after all.

The fact that she kept this secret to protect _him_ made his heart leap.

But when he heard the Bulstrode girl say 'Like yours?' he felt as though his lungs had been crushed. Not wanting to hear anymore he left quickly and quietly. He didn't want to hear his wife say 'yes'. He couldn't explain it, but he knew that it would hurt even more.

True, she had said that he'd been good to her. Hell, he'd been doing his best to make everything as easy as possible, but it was so difficult. Try as he might, he was still thinking like his old self too often. He just didn't have the instincts of a human; he was an incomplete husband for his mistress.

"Damn," he muttered, leaning against the wall. Well, he'd certainly picked up human swearing. "What more can I do?"

He shook his head, waited a minute, and then went back to the bridal chamber.

* * *

The girls shrieked when someone knocked at the door, and then laughed. They'd cheered up a bit by now and were making jokes about Lucius Malfoy's attempts to stop the marriage of his son to Goyle. Apparently someone had actually had the balls to mention male pregnancy. Lucius nearly had a heart attack.

"Who is it?" Hermione called. She heard someone clear their throat, and knew who it was immediately. "Oh, come in, Crookshanks."

He opened the door enough to poked his head into the room. His expression was blank.

"When will you be ready?" he asked quietly. Hermione frowned.

"Um… give us another half hour?" she said. She glanced at her two friends and they nodded. "Yes. Half an hour should do it."

"Do you want some drinks?"

"The house elves already provided something," Millicent said. Hermione flinched a bit, but told her inner SPEW campaigner to shut up. "Thanks anyway."

"You're welcome," he said. He glanced at the brides. "You both look nice." Before they could reply he continued. "Do you have any messages for your grooms?"

"Nope," Ginny said, smirking. Millicent shook her head. Crookshanks nodded and then left, closing the door firmly behind him. Hermione frowned.

"Did something seem… different about him?" she asked.

"How should we know?" Millicent asked. "You're his wife."

_That's not quite how it works_, Hermione thought, but she didn't say anything. Instead she helped the brides with their hair makeup.

As she was pulling off her outer robes to finish getting ready herself she paused.

"He heard us," she said, her voice cracking.

"What?" Ginny asked as she put down her eyebrow pencil.

"Crooks. He must have heard us talking before."

"Hey!" Millicent said, glancing at the clock. "It's almost time. Are you nearly done, Hermione?"

"Um… yes," she said, patting down her hair. She hurriedly smoothed her blue dress, the 'neutral' colour they had decided upon. But she couldn't think about that at the moment.

And yet… her friends were about to get married. She couldn't disappoint them by being distracted with her own personal problems.

She just hoped that, for once, her deductions were wrong.

* * *

It was a nice ceremony. There were no fireworks – literal or metaphoric – but neither were there any fights, objections or bad weather. Hermione kept glancing at Crookshanks, thankful that there was very little for her to do once she had preceded the brides down the aisle. His stony face confirmed her fears. He had been so tender, even affectionate, that morning, and now she had gone and ruined it. Twice.

How could she make it up to him?

The 'first dance' finished. Harry and Ginny lingered, but Millicent and Ron separated hastily. She rolled her eyes when she saw this. Honestly. They were behaving like children.

Mr. Bulstrode and Arthur both started to dance with their daughters. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Will you dance with me?" Crookshanks asked. She nodded and he led her onto the dance floor.

"Thank you," she said as they moved into position.

"We are married; it is expected," he said.

"…Oh."

"But," he continued, "I would not want anyone else to claim this dance with you."

She smiled shyly. "I would have said 'no' to anyone else."

He looked pleased.

As they danced Hermione pushed herself to say something. She didn't _want _to, just in case she was wrong, but she had to make this right.

"Crooks," she began.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I…" Gods, what to say? "Nothing."

"Why did you not tell me what those letters contained?" he asked. She blushed. She had forgotten that he was a Legillimens.

"I feared that you'd feel bad about it," she said. "And honestly, what could anyone do? The _Prophet_ was very careful about its wording, and I could hardly sue each and every person who wrote to me. Very few signed their names, all of them powerful, most of them purebloods. Then there were the misguided people who still thought that I broke Harry's heart – and Viktor's heart – in my fourth year. Do you remember all that?"

"Yes. I recall how upset you were. I wanted to scratch their eyes out."

She bowed her head, unable to hide her bashful smile. "Unfortunately, no matter how much weight I still pull there was nothing I could really do. To acknowledge any of the… messages would be to show that they affected me."

"But they did."

"Yes, but I didn't want _them_ to know that they did," she said. "That's how The Game is played." Crookshanks noticed the bitterness in her tone.

"I can see the advantage in ignoring them," he said.

His initial question just confirmed Hermione's fears. He had heard them.

"Crookshanks, what I was saying to the girls before the wedding…"

"You were consoling them," he said. "I do see that. But I know that marrying a _cat_ – and half-kneazle – is hardly the situation any bride wants."

"Do you… do you know what I was thinking the day of our wedding?" she asked.

"'Why me?'" he suggested. She chuckled and shook her head.

"I was thinking just how lucky I was to be marrying my best friend," she said. She stepped closer into his arms and rested her head against his chest. "I couldn't imagine a better situation. What if I'd been with someone I barely knew, who barely knew me, who wanted me for my… 'fame'?" She said the word with complete distaste. "During our first year together you were my only friend when Harry and Ron abandoned me. You've always been there for me; you've always been on my side."

He smiled down at her and stroked her curls off her neck again. This time she leaned into his touch, forgetting their surroundings, at least until the music stopped and everyone applauded the small orchestra.

She looked up at her husband and knew that things were better… at least for the time being.

**

* * *

**

I apologise if I sound a bit ominous at the end. That is, indeed, on purpose.

**One chapter to go! There would have been more posts had the chapters been shorter, but people keep asking me to write longer instalments. I guess you could call this practise for future long-chaptered stories. (I sure as heck need the practise.)**

**Anyway, please review if you enjoyed it! Or if you have constructive criticism. If you don't know how to post constructive criticism, i.e. in a non-flame-y way, then don't bother. It's just aggravating when someone says that they're not flaming when they are. Grr!**

***Smiles for the benefit of non-flamers***


	5. An Early Labour

"An Early Labour"

The days grew shorter, and so did the months. Hermione worked like a fiend at the Ministry to make up for her many toilet breaks and the pending maternity leave. She even brought work home over Christmas.

"This is ridiculous," Crookshanks said, glaring at the stacks of files. "How could they allow you to…"

"They let me take things at my own pace," Hermione said.

"Your pace is far too fast for someone in your condition."

"At least I'm home." She frowned. "Aren't you always complaining about the amount of time I spend at work?"

"You are my wife, and you are pregnant with our brood. Of course I would rather you spend more time here," he said, frowning right back. "You should be slowing down."

"I don't want to get slack," she said. "It will just make it harder to get back to a normal routine once I'm no longer on leave."

Crookshanks shook his head and left her to it.

* * *

A few weeks before the double wedding he had finally got some work. Or, more to the point, he had started his own work.

With his memories as a cat/half-kneazle, Crookshanks had begun creating the ultimate cat food. This stemmed from his experiments in the kitchen soon after he became a human, before he was fully accustomed to his changed tastebuds. Hermione helped him acquire ingredients and put him in touch with Arabella Figg, who was famous for breeding kneazles and part-kneazles. He researched the cat food on the market, found out how it was made, and then began to produce his own.

First he sold from their apartment, not having enough of his own money to buy premises and hire staff. That was in the first month. Then he forced himself to contact the Magical Menagerie. The store not only bought some for its feline 'stock' but also advertised the products there. Soon, orders were pouring in as word spread. Without the use of magic to speed up production he would have been working all day every day.

Working from home had one great disadvantage: he missed Hermione. It didn't feel right to be in their apartment without her; not as a human. He frequently visited Mrs. Figg's house for product testing, which at least lessened his loneliness. Sometimes he even cooked there, as Smell-Disguising Charms – while good at preventing the stench from triggering Hermione's morning sickness – were still tedious, and Crookshanks liked to be able to air-taste his new products when making them.

"Ah," he said, nodding as a regal-looking owl came into sight. Hermione was due back soon; she was now into her fifth month. However, the owl wasn't from her.

He opened the window and in flew Copernicus, Millicent Weasley's owl. Crookshanks fed him a few owl treats, glad that the air from his cooking had now cleared, and removed the package.

"Thank you," he said. Copernicus nodded and took off. He never waited for a reply, as it was unnecessary.

Millicent and Ron's honeymoon had only lasted a few days before they returned, anxious not to be alone together for longer than required. She had never had to work, and had an exceptional dowry, but Ron had insisted that she find some form of employment.

It was Ginny who had discovered Millicent's passion and talent for art and design. When Crookshanks complained about not having the faintest idea when it came to packaging for his cat food, Ginny had convinced him to hire Millicent. She turned out some great ideas, worked for very little, and was able to use the work as an excuse to avoid spending extra time with her husband. Crookshanks gave her a raise after a week.

He smiled as he pulled out the fresh batch of packets and boxes in varying sizes, all with the attractive orange and brown logo and the company name – Crookshanks Cat Cuisine. (He got the idea for the three Cs from the Weasley twins.)

"Good," he said. Just then the floo activated, and his head swivelled around as Hermione stumbled into the room, one protective hand on her swollen belly and the other steadying herself against the fireplace. "Good evening, Hermione."

"Hello, Crookshanks. How was your day?"

"Fine. Productive. You?"

"Okay," she said. They nodded at each other, acknowledging how awkward things had become. It was all because of work. More to the point, because of Hermione's late hours at the Ministry.

_This is unacceptable_, he thought, but he wasn't up for another argument. Not tonight.

"I see Millicent sent the next lot of packaging," Hermione said, glancing at the coffee table.

"Yes."

"Good."

"What would you like for dinner?"

"Um… whatever you want," she said. "I'm going to have a shower."

Before the awkwardness set in Crookshanks would have immediately volunteered to shower with her, but, well… things had been quieter on that front. He tried to tell himself that it was the pregnancy, and perhaps it was. Nonetheless, things were different.

* * *

Another month passed. Hermione was now at the end of her second trimester. She was in a lift at the Ministry of Magic one day when she met Lavender Montague.

They got on better than they had during their Hogwarts days, but that was mainly because they were no longer in a love triangle with Ron. However, they still disliked each other.

"Hello," Lavender said, smiling tightly.

"Good afternoon, Lavender," Hermione replied, one hand holding files and the other resting on her baby bump. "How are you and… your husband going?"

"Fine," she said. "What about you and your, uh, husband?"

"Okay, I guess." She looked at the floor. "He's very attentive and his business is going well."

"Don't you ever worry about him being a human?"

"Better than him being a half-kneazle," she said, eyes sparkling. That soon changed.

"I mean from his perspective," Lavender said, frowning at her nails. "He must miss his old life."

"Oh?"

"My _dear_ Hermione, he's making _cat_ food."

Hermione stared at her open-mouthed and wide-eyed. "B-but that's because he knows what cats like and he isn't really qualified for much… not that it's his fault, and I'm teaching him all that I can about magic… or, at least, I was." She looked worried. "It's not like he's clinging to the past, is it?"

"Isn't it?" she said. Just then the lift reached her floor. "Well, I suppose you'd know best. You're his wife, after all. Sorry I couldn't come to the wedding, but then ours were on at the same time, weren't they? That was just before Padma gave birth, come to think of it." The door opened. "I'll tell Parvati you said 'hi', shall I? See ya!"

Hermione nodded wordlessly as the blonde left and the door snapped shut again. This time her stomach lurched for quite a different reason.

* * *

Crookshanks sent the last parcel through the floo. The largest order was always last, and it was always for the Magical Menagerie.

"Done!" he said, dusting off his hands as he stood. He packed everything away and was just clearing the air when Hermione arrived home.

"Hi," she said, head down as she walked through to their room. Crookshanks knew that something was wrong and followed his wife.

"What is wrong?" he asked, his eyes reflecting his concern.

"Nothing. _Should_ something be wrong?"

"I hope not." He sat on the edge of their bed, watching as she stripped. Despite the tension between them he was starting to get hard as her pregnant body was slowly revealed. She walked across the room to their wardrobe in just her underwear and he leapt to his feet.

"What?" she asked, clutching a t-shirt to her chest.

"Lie down," he said, his voice husky. He noticed her shiver, but she shook her head.

"Sorry, but I just can't," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't _want_ to, that's why!"

"All right, calm down," he said, holding his hands up. "It is just… seeing you rounded with our k-kids…" He shrugged. "I am only human, Hermione."

"But you weren't always," she whispered. "And you just did it again. You started to say 'kittens', didn't you?"

He sighed and looked down. "Yes. But I _am_ trying."

"It's not enough." She glanced away. "You miss being a cat, don't you?"

"You must admit that it is reasonable to feel a bit, I suppose, 'homesick'," he said. "I have been human for little more than half a year. It was a big change. How do you expect me to feel?"

"I just wish you'd be honest about this," she said, holding her elbows and shuffling. "I feel bad enough as it is."

"No," he said, walking forward and pulling her into his arms. "Hermione, no. This was _not_ your fault…"

"It was," she said. He opened his mouth but she covered it. "I only found out a few days ago. The door was not designed to find a person's soul mate. It was made to bring forth the first living person thought of by whomever stands in front of it, assuming that their intentions are not of ill will. I was thinking about coming home to you – you know, because I was so bored and frustrated – so it _is_ my fault that you became a human. If I hadn't thought of you first, then… then…"

"You would be with someone else," he finished, nodding. "And you wish that?"

"Of course I do! I never wanted this!"

Crookshanks felt sick. He felt extremely sick.

"Yes," he said. "I can imagine why." He let her go and walked to the door. "I will start preparing dinner."

He saw Hermione nod out of the corner of his eye.

These sorts of scenes would continue for another month…

* * *

"I never said that you wished to be another Molly Weasley!" Crookshanks shouted, trying desperately to rein in his temper.

"Well you certainly implied it!" Hermione replied. "That's what all men want, isn't it? A good, obedient little homemaker!"

"I am _not_ like other men…"

"No, because you still wish that you were a bloody cat!"

"Stop," he said. "Stop this _right_ now. It cannot be good for the babies."

"Oh, but don't you mean _litter_?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. She clutched her stomach as another bolt of pain shot through her. Yet again, she ignored it. "Our three little kittens, with their little whiskers and tails!"

"Stop it!" Crookshanks snapped. "I am _sick _of this, Hermione. If it is just pregnancy hormones tell me, because I hate to add to your stress."

"This marriage was just doomed from the start," she said, throwing up her hands. "I don't know why I ever thought that it could w… oh."

This time her knees buckled. She grabbed the arm of a nearby chair to steady herself. Crookshanks took a step forward.

"Hermione…?"

"This can't be happening," she muttered. She glanced at the floor and her eyes widened. "Oh gods."

"What?" he asked. Then he saw it. "Your water…"

"I know!" she said, gripping the chair. "It's too early. They're too early."

"We have to get to St. Mungo's," he said. He Summoned her bag from their bedroom and helped her over to the fireplace. "Everything is all right, Hermione. You will be all right, and so will the babies."

"Crookshanks," she whimpered, "I'm frightened. I want my mum."

"I know you do," he said, rubbing circles on her back.

"She doesn't even know about us."

"I know, Hermione. I know." Their fireplace had been extended so that they could floo to the hospital together for appointments, and now for the labour. "St. Mungo's!" he bellowed and he dropped a handful of powder. Hermione buried her head in his chest while she protected her belly as best she could. They arrived safely out the other end.

From that moment it was go, go, go.

"Mr. Crookshanks, you must wait outside," a nurse said, trying to push him out of the ward.

"No," he said. "I am staying with my wife…"

"It's too dangerous," she said. "She's two months early and pregnant with triplets. You _have_ to stay outside."

"No! Let me in!"

Hermione cried out, clutching the sheets of the hospital bed. Crookshanks tried to force his way past.

"What's going on?" Healer Dukas asked, touching his shoulder.

"They will not let me near my Hermione," Crookshanks said, his eyes flashing in anger.

"That's right," she said. "Go and wait in the waiting room."

"You told us that she was all right," he said, pointing at her. "You said that she would be all right."

"Cats have shorter gestation periods," she replied. "Perhaps it's…"

"Oh gods, not _again_," he moaned, covering his face with his hands. Then Hermione cried his name and his head shot up.

"Just stay out here for the time being," Healer Dukas said, looking flustered. "If things get bad I'll let you know." Then she and the nurse went into the ward and placed Locking Charms on the door. Crookshanks watched Hermione fidget in pain.

"Get bad?" he whispered. "What does she mean? Does she mean…? No." He shook his head anxiously, placing his hands against the door. "No. I cannot lose Hermione. I… I just can't. I can't!"

* * *

Hermione gasped loudly.

"Come on, Hermione," Healer Dukas said. "Keep pushing."

"I want them out already," she whimpered. "Where's Crookshanks?" She looked over to the door. When she saw her husband's worried face looking at her she felt a bit better.

"At least they'll be smaller," the healer said, patting her leg. Hermione scowled at her.

"I want my children _healthy_!" she snarled. Tears spilled from her eyes as more pain wracked her body. "Crook… Crookshanks!"

The minutes passed slowly. Hermione was given a potion to make the delivery a little less painful; her husband, however, had no idea what this was. His pounding on the door became more frantic, to the point where the beating was louder than Hermione's cries. She glanced over at him again.

"Don't get distracted!" the nurse said, trying to hold Hermione's hand. She wrenched it away.

"Get. My. Husband!"

"He's not doing her any favours being out there," Healer Dukas said. "Let him in."

"But, Healer…"

"Are you questioning my or…?"

"Aargh!" Hermione shrieked. She could feel the first baby and her chest heaved with sobs. The nurse ran to the door. She had barely lowered the wards when Crookshanks burst into the room. Never had he moved so fast in his life as he reached the bed a moment later.

"`Mione," he whispered, grasping her right hand with his and sweeping her sweaty hair away from her face with his left. "My darling…"

"You're _never_ doing this to me again, you hear?" she said. He nodded.

"Don't die, Hermione," he said.

"I'll try not to…"

"First one's coming!" Healer Dukas said.

"I know!"

The whole time Crookshanks stayed glued to Hermione, never looking away from her beautiful, pained expression, not even with every insult she threw at him. She was giving birth to _his_ children. Who cared if it was for the Ministry? Right now he didn't give a flying fig.

* * *

Two white coffins lay side by side. Crookshanks was squatting beside them, tears in his eyes, while Hermione stood behind holding their only child, Bastet Elizabeth. All three babies would have died during labour had the two weaker ones not given their remaining life forces to their youngest sister. Now, however, Hermione was unable to have any more children.

After the funeral Hermione and Crookshanks stayed standing by the graves. He looked down at her.

"How is she?" he asked softly. She shrugged.

"It's still a bit cool," she said. "At least she's wrapped up well."

"Yes."

Hermione bit her lower lip. "Crooks… now that I can't have any more children we could break the Bond. Now that everyone knows the truth about the door's powers lots of people are separating. Then you can find someone else… or even become a cat Animagus… anything. You no longer have to…"

"Are you mad?" he said. She raised her eyes to his. "Hermione, I will _never_ leave you. When I thought that I lost you I realised just how much I care about you." He grabbed her by the elbows. "Damn it, I love you, and I will never leave you unless you wish it."

She smiled shakily. "You love me?"

"Yes. Do… Is it your wish that I leave?"

"No! Please don't leave me." She wrapped one arm around his waist, her other still cradling Bastet. "Please don't leave me, Crookshanks. I love you, too. I love you so much. I think… I think it was when I saw how worried you were, during the… b-birth. I knew then."

"I am so sorry that our fighting caused this," he said, indicating the holes in the ground.

"What?" She stared up at him. "No, Crooks. There was always a risk with triplets, especially two months early. It's not your fault. If you blame yourself then I must blame myself for not being strong enough, and for working too hard. And the fights were never one-way. Besides," she looked ashamed, "I usually started them."

"Hermione." He stroked her cheek. "Not today. Let's not discuss this today."

"…Okay."

They turned, still holding each other, and walked off into the sunset with their only child in their arms.

I am happy to say that this was their last sad memory.

THE END

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* * *

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Should I duck any flying objects? Hmm…

**I didn't intend for two of the three babies to die, but then it just came to me. I can't keep having completely happy endings, can I? No, indeed!**

**Maybe it's because there are now cyclones up in North Queensland, where we have family and family history. Thank Merlin there haven't been any deaths yet. Though it feels like the floods all over again, with the emergency weather reports and round-the-clock news coverage.**

**No wonder it's not all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows in my fan fics at the moment.**

**I hope you enjoyed this story, even if it didn't end on an entirely happy note. Please review, especially if you want to read more Crookshanks/Hermione!**


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